


if will can bend steel (then who is to speak of wanting)

by parttimeroses



Category: Annihilation (2018 Garland)
Genre: AU, F/F, fix-it but only kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:18:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parttimeroses/pseuds/parttimeroses
Summary: Anya packs up her shit, helps Josie do the same, and they move out on their own because fuck Lena. Fuck Ventress. She’s not invested in a suicide like this, and she won’t let Josie follow in their misguided footsteps. (Kind of a fix-it AU)





	1. sprouts like rust

**Author's Note:**

> I am super antsy about posting this... WIP thing. Ummmm. I started writing three different pieces, got to 2.5k and then was like 'why don't i just mush all of this together! No one will understand the other references! I am not comfortable posting straight up PWP either!'. So that's what's going to become of this. Eventually.
> 
> Bear with me (lol, not like in the movie though *finger guns*), I haven't posted or written for fandom in like... a hundred years. 
> 
> Anyway, Josie is so soft, duct taped her military pack together, and Anya is the BEST butch I have EVER. Lord, the woman cut up her t-shirts LIKE THAT. Honestly, they are compatible and I love them.

 

They’re elbow to elbow, up in the lookout building at Fort Amaya, as Lena gives them one last glance before she turns her back, disappearing for good.

“Come on.” Anya moves so quickly, almost lunging for her own pack, and whatever the other two had left unscavenged from Sheppard’s. She rummages, takes a few items and rations, kneeling on the cold, hard floor. And when she looks up at Josie again, there’s a desperation in her eyes. “ _Josie_ , come on.”

Anya reaches for her, for the same sleeve Josie’s been tugging on this whole time, otherwise frozen in place. “We need to leave. We need to go.”  


 

They hike back the same way they came. Josie won’t look for the hole in the fencing, won’t search for the blood in the grass that she’s sure is there. She keeps her eyes trained forward, hands gripping her gun and her pack strap with equal force.

Josie keeps one hand on her gun, and the other free, reaching for Josie every once in a while, as though to check if she’s still there with her.  
  


 

They keep shifts when the second night falls, already too deep in the forest to find any shelter other than their tent. Anya doesn’t say much when they make camp, with the angle of the sun beaming brighter through the trees than it should. Everything casts a foreign shadow with the fog rolling in. Josie shivers and pulls up her hood, covering her hands.

And Anya just assumes they’ll be sharing the tent when Josie doesn’t make any moves to pitch hers.

“I’ll take first lookout.” Anya rolls out a spare tarp in the dirt, giving her enough room to sit, directly outside the tiny tent and under its awning. Her gun rests on her lap, finger closer to the trigger.

“Okay,” Josie pretends that she’s not nervous. But she unzips the tent entrance a sliver more when Anya’s back is turned. She watches the back of Anya’s head until she falls asleep.  


 

The edge of the shimmer is in view by the fifth day, by the time that Anya’s solid shoulders are rattling with every step. She’s constantly wheezing like she’s out of breath, and she looks so tired and worn out, even though they’ve been keeping the same steady pace.

Josie’s scared and not hiding it anymore, not willing to put on an act.

“What if we came all this way-“ Josie starts at a whisper, voice breaking. “What if we get there and you-“

“Josie, listen to me.”

Anya hesitates, mulling over what they're not talking about. How Kane came back and-

“It’s… it’s okay.” She licks her lip, reaches for Josie’s arm.

Her eyes are red, and she shuts them when her vision starts to blur. Anya leaves a dirt streaked stain on Josie’s cheek, wiping the tears away with her thumb.

“It’s almost over, okay? We’re almost there.”  


 

Josie doesn’t remember much about how she felt, crossing the boundary when they return.

But she does remember the troops and helicopters swarming them immediately. It’s all done in such an urgent rush, she feels panic swallow her whole and she clings to Anya’s hand. She starts yelling when the medical personnel descend on Anya, separating them.

She doesn’t see Anya for what feels like a week.

Josie’s been declared medically sound, but she’s under observation, in isolation, for another week after that.  


 

They give her books and papers and the technology needed to research, to tell everything in as much detail as she can recall. But they won’t let her see Anya. No matter how many times she asks, and she asks every time.

“She’s in stable condition. We put her on antibiotics for her pneumonia. It was severe, she’s still on bed rest.”

It doesn’t placate her much, but it will do for now. She wrings her hands in her hoodie pockets and waits.  


 

She kicks up such a fuss after three more refusals, so she decides not to cooperate, until the director comes down to see her personally.

“I want to see Anya.” She sets her foot down, determined to fight.

The woman whose name she hasn’t been told watches Josie with a raised eyebrow, tapping her pen against the clipboard she was handed. She glances over at one of the doctors in the room with them and nods. “Okay.”

 

  
“Hey, you.” Anya’s voice is still gravelly from sleep, and she looks worse for wear.

“How are you doing?”

“I’ve been stuck with so many fucking needles, I’m surprised I haven’t bled out yet.” She laughs, with a sickly rumble in her chest.

“It’s just- Pneumonia? Nothing else?”

“Yeah. They ran tests- Shit, they’re _still_ running tests.” Anya opens her hand toward her, grasping at the bed sheets. Josie takes it, clasps it between hers, thumb running over her knuckles. Her skin is too warm, she might be running a fever. “It’s probably from all of that fucking rain.”

“Who knows what was in the water, right?” There’s an IV line going into her other hand, skin around it looking bruised and pale from earlier poking and prodding.

“Anya-“

“No one would tell me what happened to you. Where they were keeping you.” The corner of Anya’s mouth quirks. Her lips are chapped and dry.

“I’ve been in isolation. They have me working on research.” Josie ducks her head.

“ _Fuck_. They’ve kept you locked up doing their pet projects?” She starts, anger seeping into her voice, moving to sit up. Josie grasps her hand tighter, stilling her. She lets her fingertips trace up Anya’s forearm, trying to soothe.

“Save your energy,” Anya glares at her, frowning. Josie stands up, bending to press her forehead to Anya’s, watching as the other woman closes her eyes. She continues, whispering. “Get better, and we can storm the fuck out.”

Anya laughs again, genuinely, this time. Her eyes follow Josie as she gets escorted out of the room.  


 

She finds out that Kane has died, that not even life support could keep him from going under. And a couple of hours later, there was nothing but scorched earth where the shimmer was. Everything was gone, completely eradicated by an unnatural force.

The military sends in teams of scientists, trying to determine radiation levels, pulling samples to check for chemicals in the dirt.

Josie spends the whole day curled in on herself, hiding under the blankets of her cot.  


 

Josie took all the samples with her, handed them over first thing, trying to part with the memory. She’s put through an intensive psychiatric evaluation, a few hours every day. She agrees to it, only on the condition that the director lets her see Anya afterward.

She keeps calm and patient and steadies her hands, sliding them under her knees while she sits. She tells them about Sheppard, the creature that looked like a bear. The crocodile with rows and rows of teeth.

She knows she’ll be met with skepticism, but that comes with the territory, now that all the evidence is supposedly gone.  


 

Anya keeps looking better, the sickly hue of her face slowly fading every time Josie sees her. Soon enough, they’re free to walk around the base, no guards or doctors on their tail.

The first thing they do with the newfound freedom is go out on the observation deck to see it for themselves. There is a clear line in the distance, grass and brush transitioning into seared dirt, devoid of life.

“Nothing.” Anya’s knuckles go pale, gripping the banister with the force of anger. She almost wants to laugh, “Fucking _nothing_.”

Helicopters had already swept the area, no trace of Lena or Ventress, or the lighthouse.

“What the fuck was it all for?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

They’ve been allowed to go back, to be civilians again. The director says they’re free to go, but they could always use the manpower, for the aftermath. The inevitable cleanup and coverup that will follow.

Anya gives a little half smile, and a sarcastic ‘ _no thanks_ ’ before she up and leaves the office they had been called into. Josie follows in her footsteps, with no reply.

Josie isn’t sure she wants to go back or how she’d even readjust to it. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, any belongings left. She hadn’t expected to come back, hadn’t planned for it.

There’s something to be said about survival instincts, and self preservation. If she’s to take a guess.  


 

Josie wonders if she could do ‘normal’, on her own. If she could even _be_ on her own now.

In the morning, she wanders out to sit with Anya, having set her barely touched cup of coffee on the ground between her feet. Anya smuggled it out of the mess hall, acting like she was being sly. Mumbling something about being too tired, or too bored, pulling a pack of chips from her pocket and dropping it in Josie’s lap like an exchange for the company.

She falls asleep next to Josie, head falling forward, chin to her chest and hands burrowed in an oversized hoodie in the chill of dawn.

She wonders if Anya has nightmares too.  


 

At the end of the week, Anya packs up some clothes, slings her pack over one shoulder and heads for the military transport set to take her to the nearest city, an hour drive, and then she’ll be free to go.

“ _Wait!_ Wait,” Josie shouts after her, boots crunching on the gravel. “Anya, I’m- going with you.”

She stands at the side of the truck, out of breath, pushing the frame of her glasses up. “Can I?”

She’s got her own pack, clinging to the straps. It’s a new one, no duct tape holding it together.

“Yeah, sure.” Anya smiles a little, shrugging a shoulder, like she wasn’t hoping. She reaches out, offering her hand, pulling Josie up with her.  


 

Tallahassee is sweltering hot, mid-day. Anya gets them a hotel room until tomorrow, starts putting together some semblance of a plan, tying at loose ends to connect her old life with this one. She finds a road map, estimates how long they’d be driving for, when Josie walks back into the room and looks it up on her phone in under a minute.

“It’s a thousand miles away.” Josie mutters. Anya leans back in the bad excuse of an office chair, tapping her pen to the armrest.

“Two day’s drive. Give or take.” She squints up at Josie, still thinking. “Have you ever been to Chicago?”

“Once, for a conference.” Josie climbs onto her bed, stretching her legs out.

Anya hums to herself in thought, not bothering to elaborate on the question. She turns in the chair and goes back to facing the desk, staring down the road map like a challenge.  


 

Josie feels like she’s barely slept when Anya wakes her, with an gentle, insistent nudging at her shoulder.

“I got us a car.”

Josie stretches her arms above her head, humming in confirmation. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and sits up, disoriented. She gets dressed quickly, while Anya gathers up her belongings. Josie never bothered unpacking anything, she ties her boots, picks up her pack, and they’re checking out within the hour.

Anya hands her a spare sweater, bunched up to tuck between the car seat and the door. She gets them coffee from the first gas station they come across, and once she gets back in the old model sedan, Josie appraises her, trying to figure out how to make her less anxious.

She wedges herself in the corner of her seat, cradling the large styrofoam cup, watching as Anya keeps reaching over to blindly fiddle with the radio until she finally decides to shut it off.

“Nothing good on anyway.”

Josie refrains from making small talk, knows that Anya doesn’t like it either. So she reaches across the divide, knuckles brushing over the curve of the other woman’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of points: (I'm sorry, I got excited)  
> 1\. I initially went 'PUT THEM ON A BUS.' but then I asked myself, haven't they suffered enough to have to deal with Greyhound? And I'm weak for road trips so.  
> 2\. YOU GUYS. YOU GUYS! THE ONLY REASON I'M UPDATING RIGHT NOW IS BECAUSE I SPENT THE PAST HALF-HOUR LOSING MY SHIT OVER A TINY DETAIL (that I'm sure everyone has noticed already, but. BUT!):  
> You know, after Anya gets her whole life fucked up by drooling skull bear from hell, JOSIE IS WEARING HER FUCKING NECKLACE???  
> JOSIE WAS WEARING HER NECKLACE. SHE TURNED INTO A FUCKING TREE WITH ANYA'S NECKLACE ON HER. I MEAN.  
> Guys. GUYS. That's intentionally GAY!


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

After three hours, they pull over to a truck stop to switch. Anya grimaces as she gets out to stretch, reaching to prod at her back to work out some of the soreness. Josie follows her lead, rounding the front of the car to lean against the driver’s side door, pulling her hair up into a messy bun. 

“Let’s try to get to the next state.” Anya decides, getting in the backseat, sprawling against the cushions. 

She watches Josie for a little while, watches the landscape around them. She doesn’t say anything when Josie plays with the radio and settles on pop music, at the lowest possible volume. And then she falls asleep, Josie can’t really say when. 

  
They keep going without having to deal with too much traffic through mid-day, making it all the way up to Kentucky. Once the evening rolls around, Anya looks about as fed up with being on the interstate highway as Josie feels. 

“We can stop down the road.” Anya puts her boots back on, slips into her hoodie, as they pull into a crowded Super 8. The lot is almost full, so Anya leaves Josie in the car, rushing out to ask if they have any rooms left.  
  


 

“Got the last one.” Anya claims, taking the bed closest to the door when Josie goes to shower. She drops the room key, slips her boots off again, and climbs into the bed. 

Josie’s toweling off the back of her neck when she emerges from the bathroom, “What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about that yet.” Anya mumbles. She’s sunk into the pillows, hands folded under her ribs. The tv’s on, muted, and she’s cut all the lights already. 

Josie says nothing, going back to hang up her towel. She wanders over and gets on the bed next to Anya, curling on her side to face the other woman. 

“Seven?” Josie asks again, looking up at her, placing her glasses on the bedside table. 

“Josie, just rest, okay?” Anya reaches, resting a hand on her knee and leaving it there. They fall asleep like that, on top of the covers.

 

  
Anya stirs, to Josie still at her side, tracing her fingertips over Anya’s forearm, carefully over the bruise she can’t remember how she got. Thumb ghosting over the curve of her wrist. 

She catches Josie’s eye, and she shies away. Anya turns her head to face her, giving it a moment, holding her gaze. 

“What time is it?”

“6:30.”

“Did you sleep?”

“A little.”

“Yeah,” Anya agrees, turning to face her, draping an arm over Josie’s hip, too drowsy to think about it. Josie ducks her head under Anya’s chin, taking a hold on her shirt, breathing steadily. “Alright.”  
  


 

Anya sleeps in, waking with her arms wrapped around a pillow, and Josie sitting on the other bed, checking her phone periodically, with a newspaper folded up at her side. 

“Oh, you’re up.” Josie nudges her glasses up, “Check out is in an hour, I think.”

“I need a shower.” Anya grumbles, reaching to turn the alarm clock on the bedside table, almost ten. “We’ll leave then?”

Josie nods, “I’ll drive first.”  
  


 

They have to stop for gas once they reach the next state border. Anya heads into the convenience store for food and drinks, returning with a bag. She puts two bottles of water in the cup holders between them.

“You want to park somewhere to eat?” 

“Let’s keep going. It’s only a few more hours.” 

Anya shrugs and nods, handing her half a sandwich as they make their way back on I65. 

They swap seats in Gary, because Anya knows the way from here. She puts on sunglasses as the evening turns the sky bright orange in their direction, and takes them up into Hyde Park.  
  


 

Anya’s apartment is a sparsely furnished one bedroom, on the 10th floor of an older complex. 

They get chinese food and sit on opposite ends of Anya’s tiny kitchen table, knees bumping. 

She’s picking at her fried rice when Anya clears her throat, leaning over the table slightly. “There’s a bunch of universities in the area-”

Josie blinks up at her, then back down to her meal quickly. She sighs, frowning. “I don’t want to think about that right now.” 

“Okay,” Anya sets down her fork, “I just want you to know, there are options here. If you wanted to stay.” 

When Josie looks up again, she thinks there’s a bit of hope in Anya’s eyes. But she doesn’t bring it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update, still trying to decide where I'm going with this. Also, trying to decide if I should write the hockey au of my gay dreams. You KNOW Anya will fuck up any and all women bigger than her for checking or chirping Josie. And that is a concept I would like to explore.  
> -Have you guys seen the Janelle Monae video that dropped today? Because I SWEAR. That is one long coming out/'my girlfriend is my muse, we like to go down on each other all the time and now you know' type of music video. Go watch it. There is nothing subtle ~~(about Tessa's face between Janelle's legs)~~. Also, probably don't watch it at work. Um...  
>  -I now declare Josie and Anya as Most Domestic together. That's all I want, really.


End file.
